


Enchanted

by witchpointe



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, just some sweet fluff for absolutely no reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26980051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchpointe/pseuds/witchpointe
Summary: There isn't really a reason for his façade of perfection—Hongbin would welcome him either way, he thinks—but there's something comforting in the paragon pretense he wears for his feeder, a set of roles that they play for each other that keeps the relationship light, detached—for now.For now, it's a simple familiarity based on Taekwoon's need for blood.For now.
Relationships: Jung Taekwoon | Leo/Lee Hongbin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> this is a small excerpt from a much larger world that lives in my brain, half-written in notebooks and tweets and word docs. i don't know if it will ever see the light of day as a proper fic, but this is one of my favorite moments, sweet and subtle and fluffy. ❤️

Taekwoon stops before Hongbin's bedroom door as he has many nights since he brought him home to stay, months ago now in the blazing end of summer. He adjusts the wisps of hair near his ears where they've strayed from his ponytail; pulls on the soft beige cashmere of his sweater; checks that the hem of his jeans are still neatly folded over. There isn't really a reason for his façade of perfection—Hongbin would welcome him either way, he thinks—but there's something comforting in the paragon pretense he wears for his feeder, a set of roles that they play for each other that keeps the relationship light, detached—for now.

For now, it's a simple familiarity based on Taekwoon's need for blood.

For now. 

Tonight, though, he's already eaten.

Taekwoon knocks lightly then lets himself in. Darkness covers the room, a blanket of stillness broken only by the soft sighs of Hongbin's breath. His mahogany curls spill from underneath the duvet pulled up and bunched around his face, leaving his bare feet out in the cold. Smiling, Taekwoon deflects the urge to tickle him, reliving the memory of Hongbin's ticklish feet and thighs.

Instead he switches on the bedside lamp, a stained-glass vintage fixture that feels so unlike Hongbin, but casts him beautifully nonetheless in moody, dark tones. It isn't enough to wake him. Taekwoon pulls the duvet down and palms his bare shoulder, speaking his name.

His warm brown eyes blink open, hazy at first glance. When they lock onto Taekwoon the momentary fear yields to something more tender.

"Taekwoon?"

Hongbin's voice is heavy, coarse with sleep, but much more quiet than normal, softer in tone more akin to how Taekwoon himself sounds. It softens something inside Taekwoon's core.

"Yes, it's me. I'm sorry to wake you." Taekwoon can't help himself; his hand reaches out to wrap a curl around his finger. "It's late."

The duvet falls to Hongbin's waist as he pushes onto his elbows. Taekwoon is graced with the sight of skin he's never seen: tanned, barely muscled, littered with markings. He doesn't have the luxurious glow of Hakyeon or the pure softness of Sanghyuk, he certainly doesn't boast the immaculate polish of his own complexion. But there are stories there, behind the cruel fang marks in the hollow of his neck, the slashes over his chest, the jagged line of a scar that runs across his shoulder. Taekwoon wants to hear them all.

"Sorry." Hongbin runs his hands over his face. "I don't usually—I never sleep this late. What time is it?"

He lifts the corner of the curtain near the bed to look out the window, but there isn't anything to see in the darkness. The porch light went out a few nights ago, and no one has bothered to replace it. Wholly unnecessary for the three vampires, but Hongbin and Jaehwan will be wanting it.

"It's nearing midnight. Did you sleep well?"

"Shit, really?" Hongbin moves to uncover his legs, but Taekwoon stops him.

"Relax. You have nowhere to go." Taekwoon runs his tongue over his teeth, willing the slight sharpness to recede. He's full, but Hongbin's blood always smells good, like things that grow from the earth in the dead of winter. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah. I guess." Hongbin yawns. "I didn't dream. I haven't been dreaming lately."

"Does that trouble you?"

Hongbin shrugs. "Not really. My dreams are usually cool though."

Taekwoon chuckles, turning away before Hongbin can see his teeth. He stands before the closet door. "May I dress you?"

"Huh?"

"I mean pick out your clothing for the night," Taekwoon says, opening the closet door. "May I?"

"Uh… sure." Hongbin crosses his arms to rub his shoulders. "There's not that much though. Nothing interesting."

He's right. Rifling through the dozen hangers he finds little more than bland t-shirts. He wishes that he could dress Hongbin in his own clothes, yearns to see one of his oversized knit cardigans hugging Hongbin's shoulders. They would drape around him differently.

Taekwoon frowns. "Is this all you have?"

"Yeah." Hongbin says, looking away. "I don't need much."

"Of course." 

Taekwoon nods in agreement, but checks the size of the black shirt he tugs off the hanger. It doesn't hurt to know Hongbin's size. For future reference. After all, he'll be subject to the banquets eventually.

Taekwoon grimaces. Hongbin will hate them even more than he does.

He pulls a pair of shorts and underwear from the drawers—they all look much the same—and takes everything to the bed, heaping them in Hongbin's lap.

"I should shower. You know, before you—" Hongbin gestures toward his neck.

"No need. I already fed tonight."

"Oh. Alright." Hongbin's shoulders droop, running a hand through his hair. "Then why are you—" two fingers get stuck on a tangle and yank his head back. "Ow."

"Let me brush your hair. Before you shower."

"It's fine."

"Let me."

It's an insistence that Taekwoon hopes doesn't sound like an order. He doesn't want to do anything Hongbin wouldn't enjoy. But he loves Hongbin's hair in particular, the way the shorter wisps around his cheekbones stick out, the way the rest falls in disorderly kinks. It can't be his natural color, it's far too purple in direct light, but it's a gorgeous auburn that sets off the warm undertones of his skin.

Hongbin raises an eyebrow, but produces a brush from the nightstand anyway, makes room for Taekwoon behind him on the bed. Taekwoon crawls in behind him, folding his long legs underneath. There's a slight deja vu to being in the bed, though the sheets are different and smell distinctly of Hongbin now. He remembers struggling to adopt a nocturnal routine, remembers crying himself to sleep on account of the severity of Sanghyuk. Regret slashes through him, before he can push it away—the desire to be human again, to feel the heat of the sun and the taste of coffee on his tongue.

He lets himself smile as he gathers Hongbin's hair, content in knowing he can't be seen. Tangled from sleep, but still soft, he parts the hair into sections and gently combs through with his fingers before beginning with the brush, starting at the ends and working his way up.

Hongbin is fiddling with the shirt in his hands. "You know how to brush hair. Correctly, I mean."

"Mine used to be longer," Taekwoon says. "It got almost to my waist before I cut it."

"I like it how it is now."

Taekwoon feels pride in that. "That's good. It's stuck this way."

Hongbin huffs a little laugh, angling his head when Taekwoon begins on the left side of his hair. Taekwoon feels a summery contentment in his chest.

Things are so different with Hongbin then they had been with him and Sanghyuk. Easier, uncomplicated. He always feels welcome in Hongbin's presence. It had been difficult with Sanghyuk, like sandpaper, pushing against the grain until they would by chance fall deeper into themselves. He and Sanghyuk shouldn't work, but they do, somehow. With Hongbin, it's effortless.

He hopes that won't change once he breaches Hongbin's depths.

"Who left you that scar?" Taekwoon asks. "The one on your throat."

Hongbin touches his neck. "Ah—the fangs?"

"Yes. We're not supposed to leave marks. Not until you're spoken for, and most times not even then."

"I've seen your claim marks. You have more than one."

Taekwoon smiles, hopes it's not as full of bitterness as he feels. "Sanghyuk has a certain contempt for our ways. It comes from being congenital, I think. He never had the choice like the rest of us."

"Congenital?"

"He was born a vampire."

"Oh."

Taekwoon has finished freeing Hongbin's hair of tangles, but he continues to brush anyway, running it through his hands.

"Your scar?"

"I don't know who she was." Hongbin pushes the blanket off his legs and brings them to his chest to hug them. It feels like a defensive gesture, perhaps subconscious. "I had been tasted a few times before. I still got so excited every time. I kept thinking, 'Finally, someone is going to take me home.' I hadn't learned yet that most of you just want to put us in our place."

"I'm sorry." It's all Taekwoon can think of to say.

"She was rough with me, as you can probably tell. Kept pulling out to bite me again. She made this one, too." He puts his hand over his left side, the swell of his breast. "The claws hurt way more than the teeth."

"Surely there were others around who could have healed it?" Taekwoon asks this tentatively, knowing that he's asking something without properly asking.  _ Why didn't it get healed? _

"I insisted on keeping it. As a reminder." Hongbin folds his fingers together, intertwines them and breaks them apart again. "It felt wrong to cover them up and act like nothing had happened. It was always like that in the house. Bad things would happen, people would get hurt, and everyone would pretend like they hadn't heard it, hadn't seen it."

Taekwoon bites his lip. He aches for the years Hongbin spent there, aches at the prospect that another vampire could have easily come upon him, taken him home, and treated him just as bad.

"I'm glad you're here now. You're safe."

Hongbin hums, and it isn't as agreeable as Taekwoon might have hoped.

"What is this one from?" Taekwoon taps the scar on his shoulder. "Did a vampire do this, too?"

Hongbin laughs, genuinely this time. "I fell out of a tree when I was little. I always hung out in the tree in our backyard."

"Ouch."

"I cried at first, especially when my mom cleaned it. But then I was proud of it. I thought it looked cool. I thought it made me more of a man."

He laughs again, shaking his head this time.

Taekwoon wonders about Hongbin's parents, the rest of his family. How he went from a clumsy child falling out of trees in the suburbs to a lonely man resorting to a feeder home.

_ How did you come to me, Hongbin?  _

He doesn't think that question is appropriate for tonight.

"I should shower now," Hongbin says.

Taekwoon lowers the brush, returns his hands to himself. Hongbin stands, gathering his clothes. He looks much skinnier in only his boxers, clutching the ball of fabric to his chest.

"I'll make you some food." Taekwoon stands as well, considering what ingredients remain in the kitchen.

"Taekwoon?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you eat before you came?" Hongbin won't look at him, walks to the door. Places his hand on the knob. "Isn't that what you bought me for?"

Taekwoon should have known that question was coming. He should have prepared for it. But he didn't, and he has no answer, and now they are staring at each other from across the room, Hongbin's eyes becoming more concerned the longer Taekwoon doesn't speak.

"I— You're—"

_ I didn't take you away from there for your blood. _

_ You weren't just a  _ **_purchase_ ** _.  _

_ You're more to me than food. _

"Should I only drink from you, then?"

Silence.

"You might as well get your money's worth."

Hongbin smirks, exits into the hallway, leaving the door open for Taekwoon.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Now love has come to me  
>  And set apart thee  
> From all of the maddening crowds  
> The orchard is leaning her boughs  
> To hear our laughter  
> And we roll in the ardor  
> Enchanted, I am, by you_  
> Enchanted - Patrick Wolf
> 
> thank you for reading ❤️
> 
> come talk to me about leobin on [twitter](http://twitter.com/vampiresanghyuk)


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